In this essay I try to bring my mother back into my mind as the vibrant energetic person she had been. She had a stroke at eighty-seven and life was increasingly difficult. We both longed for her to die and, at her request, I would read Psalm 23 to her over and over again, as she walked through the valley of the shadow of death, fearing no evil. It was the psalm I had first got to know long before in A Child’s Garland. My mother died on my birthday, October 4th, 1990.